Chapter Text
It started out innocently enough.
Well, as innocently as anything involving Ashley Graves could be—if there was anything innocent about her at all, even back then. For all Andrew knew, his sister had been born with that tar black soul that was more akin to a black hole. An empty, hollow person who could only fill herself up by biting chunks out of him. He’d felt it since he was young. That if he wasn’t careful, he’d be consumed body and soul. Still, he’d never thought she actually would , even if the threat was always there, hovering between them like stagnant air.
He thought that he and Leyley were seventeen and fifteen back then. It’d been five years after ___’s murder death, or at least he thought that it was. Andrew had done everything in his power to stuff that memory down, ball it up and throw it away to the corner of his mind, even if it unrolled itself every night, playing like a cinema reel in his mind. It had its place, and wasn’t where his conscious mind could linger on it.
He just… couldn't.
So, that time was a little fuzzy, but he remembered that moment with a clarity that is so sharp that it seared—Ashley crawling into his bed as she usually did, cuddling up against him because it was too cold that night. It wasn’t cold at all, but he never minded her company, even if she sometimes nearly choked him in her sleep for how hard she clung to him. He told himself it wasn’t her fault. Not really. Mom ignored her all the time, and Dad might as well have been a ghost who roamed the house.
He was all she really had. And so what if he happened to enjoy how soft she felt against him — the silken quality of her hair as it brushed against his chin. The way she smelled when she’s freshly showered. He’d never tell her, but he had come to associate the scent of her cinnamon sugar shampoo with comfort. It helps him sleep and chases the nightmares of that memory away, like a light in the darkness. Or perhaps, it was just more darkness, drowning out those bloody and horrid images? For what was Ashley but a dense, black forest beckoning him in, but devouring all who entered?
And weren’t those woods lovely, dark, and deep?
He almost chuckled. How poetic of him. He was insufferably pretentious even in his own head.
It was the same as always, except Ashley wasn’t sleeping. He could tell from how still she was. Normally, she was wild in his arms when she was actually asleep. Also, she drooled.
“Andy?” She urgently poked at his chest, “Are you sleeping?”
“Yes,” he whispered in response, adding in a few loud and obnoxious snores for dramatic effect. She punched his arm in retaliation, and he could feel her wide grin against his chest. Ashley always smiled like that, large and almost feral, like a shark that had just scented blood in the water. “Liar!”
“Me? Lie?” He gasped to add a dramatic flair that he knew she’d love. “ Never. Have you never heard of sleep talking? That’s what I’m doing right now.”
“ Sleep talking?” Ashley hissed, but in an oddly delighted way that was so completely her, this time pinching at his cheek — which actually hurt. “Stop talking nonsense and look at me! I wanna try something.” She insisted before grabbing his chin and making him look down at her since she was always curled up against his chest while they were like this. He had been looking down on her a lot since his last growth spurt made him shoot up like a tree. Leyley had complained about that for weeks. “You want to try something in the middle of the night?” Nothing good ever came from any of Ashley’s bright ideas, and he wasn’t exactly optimistic about an insomnia-fueled one.
“Yep!” She grinned, “Now keep still and close your eyes.”
He felt a pit in his stomach. This didn’t sound good.
“...Why?”
“It’s a surprise! So, no peeking! I’ll know if you do,” she warned him. She probably would, honestly. Her perceptiveness could be scary sometimes.
Still, anxiety rolled in his stomach— in his experience, like her ideas, his sister’s surprises were hardly ever good either, but he still obeyed her command because, of course, he did. Andy always did whatever his little sister asked of him because he always had to, which was no different. He kept his eyes closed but smiled, somewhat amused by her antics underneath the worry.
“How would you even know?”
“I just would! I have good instincts, remember ?”
Hm. True.
So, he lay there waiting, and the seconds passed by. Ashley edged closer and closer. He didn’t panic or anything, because this was normal. It was normal for Ashley to wrap herself around him as though she were some kind of second skin and hold him so tightly that he wondered if she was trying to burrow down into his very soul, nice and snug. Like it was her home, like she belonged there, and while Andrew thought he should mind, the idea had become almost comforting, the more fond he grew of her. They were just like that. Close. Very close.
The scent of her shampoo lingered in the air heavily like smoke. It clogged his nostrils and filled his lungs (like he was choking on it). But that was normal for him, too.
What wasn’t normal (well, not normal even to them anyway) is what Ashley did next as she proceeded to flip his entire world upside down. Or stop the spinning axis entirely in its track. That was what it felt like, at least, when something that felt like soft and slightly cracked skin brushed against his mouth.
Huh?!?!?!?!?!?!
It took a moment to register what was happening, but once he did, it was like he’d been dropped in the middle of the ocean. She was everywhere, permeating through his skin, curling around his bones, and coiling tightly around his heart until it felt fit to burst. He wondered if he’d been right all along—that Ashley was devouring him just like he thought she would.
Swallowing him whole.
“What the f—?!” Andrew reeled backwards, crashing off the edge of the bed that was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two. Ashley was quick, though, smashing her hand against his mouth to keep him quiet. She glared at him like he was the one who had done something wrong. As though she hadn’t just done something fucking insane — “Be quiet!” She said through gritted teeth. “Do you want to wake up Mom and Dad?”
No. But, he would really like to throw himself off the balcony right about now. His lips still tingled, as though they had been burned and in some way he had. It felt like he’d been branded. His sister glared at him, letting go off of his mouth when she was sure that he was calm enough not to scream. “What the hell are you doing?” He whispered, feeling light-headed. Did he think that his heart had burst? No, it had exploded in his chest, leaving nothing but a pulsating and gory mess in its wake.
Ashley immediately brightened at the question. “I’m showing you that I love you! Like adults do!” She giggled before saying the most ridiculous shit that he had ever heard in his life. “You’re always going on and on about growing up and maturing, so I thought I’d try~! Are you happy?” She hopped off the bed, sinking down onto the floor, where she began to crawl toward him.
Yes!!
NO!!! OF COURSE NOT!
“Y-You can’t be serious right now,” he stuttered for lack of any other words, backing away from her. It was taking everything in his power not to scream. It felt like he was on the verge of a fucking panic attack. “Why the hell would I be happy about k-kissing my own little sister?” Andrew demanded when his back hit the dresser. Shit. Nowhere else to run. She was closing in on him fast. Just what the hell was this fucking moron thinking?!
He tried to ignore his heart's erratic beating, the way his palms seemed to grow sweaty and twitchy as his sister drew ever closer—her light magenta eyes seemed to scintillate even in the darkness of their shared bedroom. Then again, everything about her drew him in, like the alluring song of a beckoning siren, or perhaps a shrieking banshee that kept him frozen in his tracks would be a more apt analogy. Andrew was stuck, unsure of precisely what feeling was pinning him in place.
It’s like fear. Or anxiousness. Or perhaps it was… some sort of charged thrill, like when you’re at the top of a rollercoaster, right about to drop into free fall. Or something like that.
Ashley gave him a knowing look, like she understood what he was feeling better than he did, which pissed him off. It was always like that with her. Like she knew him inside and out. Like she had vivisected him, cut him open slowly, and familiarized herself with his insides intimately. Maybe she’d even opened up his skull, slicing his brain into clean, neat sections until she understood the way that his mind worked, as well. “So, you aren’t happy right now?”
“O-Obviously not!”
Liar.
He hated that his words didn’t ring true. They were bullshit, but he clung to those lies as though they were his lifeline. He knew he’d drown, otherwise. “Why would I be? Back off, already!”
“No?” She asked, her tone teasing, but there was a slight edge beneath it that told him that one wrong move and her insecurities would flare up and send her careening into an all-out tantrum and that was the last fucking thing that he needed. He’d need to navigate this very bewildering situation carefully. He could do this. He was a master at tiptoeing around the active minefield that was his little sister. “I-It’s just…” He had to word this delicately. “You’re my sister.”
Very delicate. Very smooth. You are the master at talking your way out of a hole—Good job, Andrew!
Ashley gasped in a theatrical fashion, “No! Really ? I had no idea!”
God, she’s so fucking dumb. “Oh shut the fuck up, you know what I mean!”
“Dooooooooo I?”
“I just mean — we shouldn’t be—you shouldn’t be trying to kiss me like that. Y-You’re my sister,” he affirmed once more, and he wondered if he was trying to remind himself as well. He could still feel the heat of her mouth on his, smell the floral scent of her skin. It was probably her shampoo or her body wash or something stupid like that. It lingered in his mind like a handprint that marred flesh.
He shouldn’t be thinking about that, though. And yet, here he was. Thinking about that and a whole host of other things that he had no business thinking about. Andrew hated the lack of control, the way that his mind went into an overdrive that was impossible to stop once started. He shouldn’t be waxing poetic about his sister’s scent, and yet here he was. “And you’re my brother,” she said, possessive and sure in a way that was so completely Leyley. It wasn’t like she was stating a fact. No, she was marking her territory and making sure that he understood just where he stood.
Andrew wanted to be horrified by that. He really did. He didn’t want his heart to hammer in his chest in barely restrained glee from her claim. Nor did he like the swell of pride that bubbled from some grime pit deep within his soul at the thought of her being his in return—Leyley’s Andy and Andy’s Leyley, all tangled up together, forever and ever. God. He was starting to sound like his dumbass sister.
“I’ve seen family sometimes kiss on the lips. It doesn’t always have to be weird, right? And even if it was, so what?” Ashley continues with an irritated huff. He couldn’t tell if she was bullshitting him or if she really believed the nonsense that was coming out of her mouth. He couldn’t decide what was worse. “It’s not really anyone’s fucking business, is it?” Ah. It was complete bullshit, then. She was throwing whatever she could at the wall until something finally stuck.
He knew that. It was obvious. And yet, the bullshit was starting to work. It always tended to in the end, didn’t it?
God.
He fucking hated himself.
“Siblings, though?” He muttered, rapidly losing steam as his sister approached. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen that.”
She shrugged, grinning toothily, like she knew she had him right where she wanted him, a little push and he’d crumble like a stack of cards. “Well, then we can be the first or whatever! Come on! Come on. Don’t you love me, Andy?” Ashley reached out, taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together, and pouted. “You do love me, right?”
He did.
Though—love was probably too tame to describe his feelings for his sister. She was everything , like a cancer that grew inside of him, winding around his organs like roots, crushing them into a pulp. “Yeah, of course I do…” he said instead of giving voice to those dark thoughts.
“Then, what’s the problem? Mom and Dad love each other and kiss all the time!”
“They’re married! A-And not related!” He screeched through his teeth, “Sooo?” Ashley sung because leave it to her not to understand something so basic and obvious. “Just because some loser said it’s a bad thing, everyone just listens to them? Why is it even bad to kiss your sibling on the lips?” She cupped his cheeks in her hands. God. She was warm, and her palms were so soft. Odd, considering how rough around the edges her personality was, but he liked the contrast. Ashley kept everyone at arm's length, but allowed him close—only he knew the softness of her skin when she held or touched him or how her hair smelled right after the shower she always took before bed.
And god, god —his mind was floating in dangerous waters now. He couldn’t let this continue.
“It just is , Ashley,” Jesus Christ, how could she not understand something so basic and simple? There was not caring about what others thought, and then there was whatever this insanity was.“This isn’t…It’s not… We shouldn’t—,” His head spun as Ashley obscured his vision. He had to be the voice of reason here. He had to be. Ashley was an idiot and clearly didn’t know what she was doing—and fuck, she was still getting closer. Her eyelashes were so long, framing her wide, doe-like eyes in a way that was reminiscent of a doll. Then again, everything about Leyley was like that. Small and cute, like she was made to be held and cuddled. A delight to look at and to hold — fuck, he’s getting distracted again.
He had to draw the line. He had to. It had to come from him—
She kissed him again.
This time, Andrew didn’t have such a knee-jerk reaction. He really should have, he should have shoved her off of him as hard as he could, should have reprimanded her for pulling this shit a second time, but he didn’t. This time, he was more like a deer caught in the crosshairs of a double-barreled shotgun. Or like a corpse whose rigor mortis had set in, because this had to be what it felt like to die. Numbness, and then the sensation of needles poking into his skin in rapid succession. Or perhaps, that’s the feeling of Leyley’s nails dragging down as her hands slid from his cheeks, to his neck before resting on his shoulders.
She’s not very good at this… is she?
He had nothing to compare it to, but this kiss didn’t seem like anything described in literature. There were no fireworks, or feeling of rightness as though he and Ashley were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. If anything, they didn’t feel like they fit together at all as Ashley was more intent on smashing her mouth into his than kissing him properly this time. It was wet too, but not in a way that was exactly pleasant.
And yet — it still felt like a bomb had been set off inside of him as the sensation of the kiss was all he could focus on. Her chapped lips, the heat of her breath, the way that her small hands fisted at the material of his shirt. As bad as the kiss was, every nerve-ending in his body felt raw and inflamed. Something had shifted within him, had changed, and somehow— even then he knew that he would never be the same.
Before he could process much more, Ashley drew back, lips drawn into a petulant pout.
He’d never wanted to bite her lips so badly before—
“Why aren’t you moving???” Ashley demanded, annoyed, and almost did bite her then if only to teach her dumbass a lesson. Fucking brat.
As if he even needed to answer her. It should be obvious why he wasn’t reciprocating! She was his sister; she shouldn’t even want to kiss him! Ignoring the fact that he was enjoying this terrible kiss very, very much. He shouldn’t want to kiss her, either, but that was neither here nor there at this point . He didn’t say any of that, though, because then he really would be just as stupid as she was. He had to put up at least the show of giving resistance. “Because that kiss sucked,” he said instead.
“Eh?!?!” She’d told him not to yell earlier, but it was clear that she was on the verge of throwing a complete fit, so he slammed his hand into her mouth this time to quiet her. He didn’t want to imagine their mother’s reaction if she came in and saw them like this. Andrew shuddered at the thought, pushing it aside along with every other thought he wished he’d never had as he lifted a finger to his mouth in a silencing gesture. “Shut the hell up, Leyley!”
Her eyes narrowed, and he cringed when she licked his palm. He didn’t draw his hand away, though. You could never be too careful with her. She was like a wild animal — unpredictable as all hell. “Weren’t you the one who said we’d wake Mom if we’re too loud?!”
She screeched something behind his hand, and it was damn luckily that he was covering her mouth—she might’ve woken the dead otherwise. “If I let go, will you promise not to scream?”
Ashley gave him a look that didn’t give him much confidence, but he reluctantly released her, if only because his palm was getting uncomfortably wet from her licking. He quickly wiped it off on her cheek, causing her to blanche and swing at him. Her hit landed squarely on the top of his head, and god fucking dammit that hurt! “Quit it you ass!” She whispered angrily. He gave her forehead a firm flick in response, making her to hiss like the fucking animal that she was. “It’s your spit,” he reminded her, “I’m just giving it back to you.”
She wiped her cheek with her sleeve, “In the worst way possible,” she grumbled, wondering what a good way to return her spit would look like… and… no, he wasn’t allowing that train of thought to continue. Nope. Nah. Time to put a stop to that immediately before he had a bigger…uh, problem to deal with. “And what do you mean it sucked? Way to wreck my heart…”
He groaned loudly. God. There were so many things wrong with this situation, but his main problem was how sad and disappointed she looked. He hated when she made that fucking face, like a kicked puppy. The most adorable fucking kicked puppy in the world.“No, Ashley, don’t make that face… ugh. Look,” he drew her towards him, hands framing her cheeks as he tilted her head towards him.
She really did have such expressive eyes, bright and colored like blooming flowers in Spring — fuck. He’s getting distracted again. Fucking focus, Andrew! He had to put a stop to this. He’d just tell her that this couldn’t continue. They could file it away under the pile of all of the other shit that they never talked about. This incident would be tucked away right beside ___’s death, right where it belonged. Out of sight and out of mind. Yeah.
“You’re just a little too enthusiastic. Slow down,” he said.
Andrew grew pale. No! Fucking no! That wasn’t what he was supposed to say!
Her lips twitched in a way that told him that the following words out of her mouth would make him regret trying to comfort her. “What? Are you gonna teach me to kiss or something?”
No. He wasn’t going to do that!
…but.
Well.
The damage was already kind of done, wasn’t it?
He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily, “…I shouldn’t. It’s not like I know much, either.” Ashley had never let him get close enough to a girl to even try, and after ___… well, he just hadn’t thought it would be a good idea. He also had never really wanted to.
Sure, he liked girls. He liked girls a lot — looking at them, especially the pretty ones. He liked imagining touching them. Fucking them, too, now that his irritating hormones had made themselves known but the problem was that anytime he tried to imagine what it’d be like to fuck any of them, the faceless and nameless girls would start morphing into his sister.
It was a problem. A big fucking problem.
Girls seemed interested in him, too—always laughing and giggling when he came near, or trying to talk to him, catch his attention. He was polite to them, of course. His image demanded that, and he’d always hear them out, but fuck if they didn’t bore the shit out of him. They were just so dull, a pale imitation of the iridescent color that flooded his vision whenever Ashley was near. None of them had ever been able to compare.
And he fucking hated it.
A shit eating grin spread across his sister’s face. She had him right where she wanted him and she knew it. Ashley always got what she wanted in the end — but that fact was becoming less and less bothersome over the years. Maybe there was a part of him that had grown to enjoy indulging her whims—in making her laugh, until she gave him that smile that was all dimples and teeth. Andrew liked her best like that, when she was open and affectionate, when she wasn’t being an underhanded, mean, sneaky little bitch. When he didn’t have to guess with her, if she was more like that, he’d probably do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. He wouldn’t even fight it.
He wished that she would bend a little more. Be more flexible—just a bit. If she could just relinquish some of the control she held over their relationship, she’d be perfect.
Andrew would give her anything; be anything for her.
Something tightened in his belly, and her eyelids crinkled when she noticed.
She really was like a fucking shark. “But you will,” she said knowingly.
“…but I will,” he confirmed, because he was a fucking idiot and he as much as he hated always giving into his sister’s whims, he also loved how happy she became when he gave her exactly what she wanted. Ashley giggled and it pissed him off enough to close the distance between them. She squealed against his mouth, startled by the bold action, and something heated seeped into the pit of his stomach, heavy like lead.
Andrew liked it— liked that she was out of her element. She had always been the boldest out of the two of them, but he’d made her hesitate.
Fucking finally.
Her mouth was much more pliant like this, her body tense as though she were fighting with herself to keep still. He smiled against her mouth, wondering if she was actually trying to let him teach her. His cheeks burn. He really liked that. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, but his fingers twitched, itching to touch her — feel the contours of her body in ways that he hadn’t even when she slept beside him so closely that she might as well have been a second skin. So he did — he touched her hesitantly, resting one hand on the small of her back as he tugged her closer—closer —closer —as close as he’s always wanted to be to her.
(Or maybe this was a more recent development. As a child, he’d felt stifled by her, trying to avoid her and her clinging, grasping hands as often as he could. He wondered when that changed — when did Ashley’s comfort and touch start to become something that he craved; something that he couldn’t even begin to fathom living without? She would fasten hooks into their skin, tie ropes to them, and lace them tightly to bind them together if she could, and he would gleefully— spitefully let her.
After all, who else could understand him better than her? His one and only. His Ashley.)
He pulled back a breadth of an inch. “Feels better when you’re not trying to slobber all over me, huh?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, jackass,” Ashley said, sounding faint, meek, and entirely unlike herself as she yanked him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him again. She was more careful this time, seeming to take his words to heart for once as she parted her lips, tentatively using the tip of her tongue to flick at his lips. It felt like fire had ignited within his veins, spreading hot and fast throughout his body. His heart skipped a beat or several, and suddenly it didn’t matter that he didn’t know what to do with his hands as his fingers buried themselves within her thick tresses of hair. She made a soft sound—a shivery sigh, like she was cold or something and fuck if it doesn’t make him feel like he’d been zapped by lightning.
He’d never heard her sound like that before.
Andrew was losing himself.
He felt too dizzy, his belly clenching and twisting delightfully. Ashley didn’t seem too much better off than him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she scrambled to get closer to him. She wound up in his lap, of course, her knees straddling his hips. “Feels nice,” she murmured against his mouth, sounding feverish. “You feel so nice, Andy,” and the sound of her voice and the heat of her words settle deep into his skin, like it was digging into him, pooling at the pit of his stomach before going lower —
It was with great regret that he finally wrenched himself away from her, gasping raggedly. Ashley moved as though being pulled by a string toward his lips as she attempted to kiss him again. His hands move down from her hair to her shoulders in an attempt to hold his sister at bay. This was getting out of hand. Way too out of hand, and well, anymore of this and well, he was probably going to embarrass himself, especially when she kept fucking squirming —
“Enough, Ashley,” he hissed. He squeezed her shoulders harder in an effort to stop her wiggling hips, but this was Ashley, and she never gave up easily. Or at all, really.
She pursed her lips petulantly, “Why not? It was just getting good!” Then, she grinned in that wild way of hers, eyes so fucking bright and glinting with danger. Yeah. This girl had no foresight or sense of consequence at all. She shimmed on his lap again, and he had to bite his lip to force back a moan. “And for the record —it doesn’t really feel like you wanna stop.”
Fucking hell.
His face was on fire, “Don’t fucking say anything about that!”
He was sure that if she beamed any harder, her smile would split her fucking lips to her ears. “About what? Your boner? Aww, why not? Why not?” She giggled as he grimaced from her continued teasing. Leave it to Ashley to mock him about this. Fuck. What he wouldn’t give to teach this little asshole a lesson… and show her exactly what he was capable of in that very moment. She saw him as a glorified toy, perhaps — her Andy . The boy who did anything she asked, who was always at her beck and call. Leyley had nothing to fear from Andy.
And she had nothing to fear from Andrew, either. Mostly. He wouldn’t ever hurt her, or at least that is what he would like to believe—but he was annoyed that she didn’t see him as the teenage boy that he was. Didn’t she know better than to push a riled up boy to his limit? It was like dangling a bloody steak in front of a ravenous dog; and fuck if Andrew wasn’t starving right now.
He was tempted— very tempted, but knew that there would be no going back from that . It’d be a disaster—even more of a disaster than any of this already was. The point of no return.
(As if they weren’t already at that point, but he refused to acknowledge that).
“I’m not going to repeat myself, Leyley,” he growled, moving his hands down to her hips, he grabbed them firmly, reminding her of his greater strength as he held her in place. “Now, are you going to behave?”
She smirked, “I will if you do.”
“Bullshit.”
Ashley laughed heartily, “What? Don’t believe me?” She didn’t even sound like she believed herself. “No,” he said gruffly. “Because you never fucking behave.”
“But, Andy,” she trailed her fingers along his cheeks and beneath his chin, “Aren’t I being so good for you right now?” She arched an eyebrow at him, and he was sure that she would have shimmied in his lap again had he not had such a harsh grip on her. He was grabbing her hard enough to leave bruises, an idea that left a tingling up along his spine, spreading up his brain stem and filling his head with static. He swallowed uneasily, trying to ignore the effect she was having on him. It was borderline impossible, but he persevered, because he knew that if he didn’t stop now, then he never would.
And that would be bad. Terrible. An absolute fucking catastrophe. They didn’t even have condoms—
NO! BAD THOUGHT! BAD!!
Don’t think about condoms! Don’t think about anything at all you fucking moron!
“I think you know that you aren’t,” Andrew gritted his teeth, inhaling deeply in an attempt to regain control, hoping that the oxygen would clear his thoughts even though his blood was gathered far south of where it should be. “We have to stop.”
Ashley’s face flushed, expression screwing up with rage, but he glared back just as fiercely. “Don’t give me that look. You know I’m right.”
“And why is that? You want to go further. So do I! What’s the fucking problem, then?”
Sometimes he really wanted to wring this little idiot’s throat. “Why are you like this?” He groaned, burying his face into her shoulder. She was so fucking warm. And soft. And he wanted, he wanted —
“This can’t happen again, Ashley.”
He expected her to scream again, throw a fit that would lead to his parents rushing in. He would throw her off of him before they would find them like this, but their mother would be absolutely furious. He probably wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks, but to his surprise, his sister didn’t do any of that. She relaxed against him instead, arms entwining around his shoulders, like vines.
“Alright,” his sister said, “We won’t then,” she said in a sing-song sort of way that told him that she was lying. This wouldn’t be the last time at all. He knew that, and she knew it, too, but she was willing to lie for now, at least for the sake of his misplaced morals. “I’ll wave my magic wand. This night never happened, Andy .” She kissed his cheek, as though to seal the deal, but he knew she was only cementing her own dishonesty, as though carving it into stone.
He knew that, but he still held onto that lie as firmly as he clung to her. He couldn’t admit the truth to himself, at least not yet. It was too much, too raw, the feelings that this night had evoked within him too visceral for him to even begin to process. Not yet. This would have to do.
At least, for now.